


The Seventh Rule of Acquisition

by moon_moth



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-07-26 18:09:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7584634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_moth/pseuds/moon_moth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rom sends Nog to Professor O'Brien's school as a punishment, but things are turning out differently than expected. He's been hanging around with that Human boy, Jake Sisko- which everyone but Jake and Nog themselves seems to agree is a bad idea. So what's Rom going to do about it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I still don't understand why you decided to send my nephew to waste his time being taught nonsense by some Human Female. But then, that's probably because I'm not an idiot," said Quark, as he glared over Rom's shoulder at Nog, who was just about to leave.  
  
"Idiotic or not, it's my decision to make."  
  
He turned to his son.  
  
"Hurry up and get to school before you're late."  
  
"There's no profit in it," continued his brother, who was in a mood. Rom knew how to pick his battles with Quark (avoid them whenever possible), but Nog- who had inherited his uncle's stubbornness- didn't. This was better left alone, but the boy decided to argue.  
  
"Jake says not everything has to be profitable to be worth doing."  
  
" _Oh?_ Did he say that? Well if _Jake_ says it, then it _must_ be true. Will you listen to your son, Rom? Now he's starting to _sound_ like one of them!"  
  
So early in the day, and Rom already had a headache.  
  
"We'll talk about this later. Nog, go."  
  
The second his son was gone, his brother started in on him again.  
  
"How long are you going to let this continue? Those Humans are corrupting him. Soon he'll be spouting Federation codes of conduct at us."  
  
"You're exaggerating, brother."  
  
"Am I? You heard what he said just now."  
  
"He's still a child."  
  
"Exactly! He's impressionable!"  
  
"He's just going through a phase. You went through a few yourself around that age," he added pointedly.  
  
Quark stiffened for a moment.  
  
" _That's different._ And it's beside the point! You've got to do something about that boy."  
  
"I _am_ doing something."  
  
"Do something else!"  
  
"Do you want me to sit here and argue with you, or do you want me to fix that holosuite the Klingon wrecked before the bar opens?"  
  
Quark grumbled, but let it drop, and Rom retreated to the broken holosuite before he could decide to pick it back up again.  
  
The much maligned decision to send Nog to this 'school' had been made at wit's end, and was intended as a punishment. Admittedly, that plan had backfired. His son had made friends with that Human boy, and now school was an excuse to see him every day. He wasn't sure he liked this development, but at the same time, Nog hadn't been getting into nearly as much trouble since he started attending. He was under someone else's supervision for a few hours every day, his time was occupied, and he was left far less often to his own devices. He even seemed interested in the actual subjects being taught- which as far as he could tell were harmless enough. It wasn't the most ideal of trade-offs, but a minor headache was better than a major one.  
  
This is what he kept reminding himself, as every other word out of his son's mouth became "Jake."  
  
It wasn't as if he didn't want his son to socialize. And he had to admit, the boy was enjoying himself. Did he really have the heart to take that away? The situation had become a double-edged sword; either he tolerated the increasing influence of Human culture, or he forbade further contact and let that drive the inevitable wedge between him and his son.  
  
No. No, he'd have to accept it, and deal with things one day at a time. It could be worse. It _had_ been worse. At least his son having a friend who was a bad influence was a _normal_ sort of parenting problem. He'd take some wide-eyed Federation kid over a surly, drunken Cardassian losing money at the Dabo tables any day.  
  
Rom's thoughts were now veering off toward some not-so-fond memories, and he was glad to have something else to focus on. He threw himself into the task at hand. Though he didn't particularly enjoy being harped on and nagged at and ordered around by his brother, the work itself was usually satisfying. Fixing simple problems was almost meditative, and finding creative solutions for the complicated ones was as close as he got to fun some days. It was one of few times when he felt really engaged and in his element.  
  
Maybe, he heard himself thinking, Nog needs something like this too. Maybe he'll find it in school.  
  
That was certainly a new idea. But it made sense. Even if he felt apologetic for it, the fact remained that his son did take after him in certain distinctive ways. The implications were unfortunate, and he did worry about his son's future success- but if Nog was happy, then he was happy. One day at a time, he reminded himself.  
  
The repair job was going along well enough until he realized he needed a replacement part he didn't have. Why couldn't that Klingon female have jammed her knife into the wall a bit to the left?  
  
He exited the holosuite with 'It's not fixed yet' written all over his face. Quark frowned at him.  
  
"What's the problem?"  
  
"It's not fixed yet," he replied.  
  
Quark huffed, looking like he was going to roll his eyes right out of his head.  
  
"Why isn't it fixed?"  
  
"I need a part."  
  
"Do you know where to find this part?"  
  
"Wwweellll..."  
  
"Then why are you standing here?" he snapped. "Hurry up!"  
  
Rom grabbed his tools and slipped away.


	2. Chapter 2

He knew where to get the part he needed, true- but he'd have to take it from somewhere else. Fortunately, he knew a place to find one that wouldn't be missed- as efficient as the Starfleet people had been at fixing up the station, there were still a few spots where repairs were stalled or slow-moving. He would have to take a long crawl through the access tubes.  
  
It wasn't a vital part. And even if it was, Rom could have just taken it and gone with no trouble, but the sense of a job left unfinished would have bothered him all day. He knew he had what he needed to jury-rig the rest of the unit so that it still ran (more or less) without it's filched component. Just because his job was hard didn't mean he had to make other people's jobs harder.  
  
So he stayed there, carefully piecing things back together, because he was an idiot who cared too much and wasted time. Well, what difference did it make if he wasted some time? It's not as if Quark knew how long this was supposed to take anyway. Quark hadn't the slightest clue what these repairs entailed, and he didn't care either. He would still get the holosuite running before his brother started losing money. No problem. He just wouldn't mention that he stopped to fix anything else.  
  
Rule number two hundred and fifty nine: what the boss doesn't know can't hurt you.  
  
He started crawling back, aware but relatively unconcerned that he was, as usual, following some rules and disregarding others. Obviously, this was why he had ended up in such a pathetic situation- a single father, scraping by, hopelessly indebted to his brother, with little or no business opportunities- but over the years he'd quit giving himself so much grief over it. He got enough of that from everyone else.  
  
Nearing the promenade, Rom realized he was approaching a problem. There was someone else in the access tubes. More than one person, in fact. Two Human Starfleet officers, thumping along, talking much louder than was necessary. Most aliens did. He would've heard them a long way off, even if they'd been whispering, so he had plenty of time to avoid them. They wouldn't hear him, but their eyes were better than his, so he had to be down a different tube before they cleared the nearest corner. The route wasn't ideal, but it was better than explaining what he was doing, so away he went.  
  
He heard them passing for a long time, talking about the Chief and his wife, and the marital problems that had followed their move to the station. It wasn't the first he'd heard about that, either. He silently wished the couple luck and kept going, being quieter than he knew he needed to be, because soon he'd have to pass by the security office.  
  
Even if the constable happened to be in there, he wouldn't hear Rom in the walls. Rom was bigger than a Cardassian vole, but he could be quieter than one when he wanted. Still, he wasn't taking any chances.  
  
The constable _did_ happen to be in there. He could hear the familiar voice, speaking in familiar suspicious, accusing tones. He was off on some tirade; Rom couldn't make out the words from here, with the distance and all the other noise filtering in from the promenade. He could, however, make out what the other voice was saying. It was loud, excited, and indignant. It was also young, male and Human- and even if there were lots of Human children on the station he'd know this voice instantly. It was, of course, his son's friend Jake. That meant school had let out, which meant it was later than he realized. He frowned.  
  
"I don't know," Jake was insisting in a slightly raised pitch.  
  
The constable's reply was still indistinct, but Rom was getting closer every second. Was that his son's name he had just heard?  
  
"But we didn't go near it! I swear!"  
  
Yes, it was his son's name. Now, as he approached the security office, the constable's voice was becoming clear.  
  
"Are you sure?" he was saying.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure."  
  
"And how long were the two of you _'hanging out'_ in that section?"  
  
"Until I had to go home for dinner. About nineteen hundred."  
  
"So you went back to your quarters. Did Nog leave at the same time?"  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"No," said the boy defensively.  
  
Rom should have kept going. His brother was waiting and he'd already been longer than he planned. But they were talking about his son, so how could he leave? Rule number seven: keep your ears open. An essential rule, not just for business, but for parenting as well. So he stopped there, making himself comfortable in the little space right behind Odo's office.  
  
"Then how can you be so sure your friend wasn't at the scene when it happened?"  
  
"I just am!"  
  
"Do you know where he is now?"  
  
There was a silence, during which Jake had presumably shrugged.  
  
"And why is that?"  
  
"Because I'm not with him," the boy sighed.  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"But-"  
  
"But nothing! You have no proof that he wasn't involved, and you are therefore wasting my time. If I were you, young man, I'd be more discerning about who I spent my time with. Your little friend is a menace."  
  
_"He didn't do it!"_ Jake shouted.  
  
"That's enough," said the constable in a warning tone.  
  
"He _didn't!_ I mean, yeah, he plays pranks on people, but that's totally different! It's all harmless! He never does anything _bad_."  
  
"Oh, doesn't he?"  
  
"Not like this! He isn't _mean_. If he _was_ , I wouldn't be his friend!"

"Your personal opinions are not-"

"This isn't _fair_ ," Jake interrupted. "There's no reason to accuse him!"  
  
"Do I have to escort you to your father's office?" said Odo in a voice now completely bereft of patience.  
  
The boy heaved a deep sigh, then insolently heavy footsteps stomped away. The door opened and closed. A chair shifted as it was sat upon. And Rom sat there in the wall, perfectly silent, with his toolbox in his lap. For several minutes, there was no sound from the security office other than computer access noises and the odd _'hrmph'_ from the constable.  
  
Then, as quietly as he'd come, Rom took up his tools and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> featuring rule of acquisition #259, which i completely made up.
> 
> (Sometime down the line, perhaps years later, O'Brien is elbow-deep in the very same spot Rom just tinkered with, his face screwed up, his brows knitted, saying "WHAT in the HELL am I looking at??")


	3. Chapter 3

Rom reappeared in the bar, feeling his brother's glare the second he crawled out of the access panel. He went straight for the broken holosuite, hoping in vain not to be bothered. His brother swooped down on him almost instantly.

"Where were you?" Quark hissed.

"Getting the part," he said softly, surprising his brother by walking right past him.

"What took you so long?" he persisted, following.

He ignored the question.

"The holosuite will be fixed in a few minutes."

Rom kept walking, while Quark paused for a second and looked after him.

"It better be!"

He was about to enter the doorway of the thing, and he nearly tripped over his own feet when he heard the constable's voice say his brother's name. He paused to watch what happened.

"What is it today, Odo?"

"Can you account for your nephew's whereabouts yesterday between twenty and twenty one hundred hours?"

"Absolutely I can, he was in and out of the stockroom all evening."

"Can anyone else corroborate?"

"Morn was right here; you saw him, didn't you Morn?"

Rom didn't stick around to listen to the courier's rambling answer; he ducked inside the holosuite and got to work. He fitted the final part into it's place deftly, and true to his word, he had it fully repaired in minutes.

Morn hadn't even finished yammering when he walked out.

"There's still a knife hole in there," he said flatly as his brother hurried over.

"But it works?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now I need you to get that light fixture on again," he said pointing over to a dark spot.

Rom walked over, with Quark right behind him, and as his brother watched, he unfastened it from the wall and began to walk out with it under his arm.

"What are you doing? Can't you fix that here?"

"No," he lied.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't."

Quark squinted at him, but was too busy to argue.

"Don't take all day with it," he called out as he went back behind the bar.

Rom didn't need to take the whole light fixture apart to repair it, but he did anyway. There had been virtually nothing wrong with it, just some loose parts, and he laid them all out, piece by piece, on a table. There was, of course, only room on the table to do this because Nog had tidied up. He could see that the boy was home. He would think the silence was suspicious if not for 'homework.'

"Hello father," came his voice from another room.

"Hello son."

Light footsteps approached.

"You're back early," he said as he appeared in the doorway.

"I brought some work back with me."

His son looked down at all the parts spread out on the table and gave him a similar look to the one he'd just gotten from Quark.

"... That's just a lamp."

"Yep."

"You could've fixed that while it was still on the wall, it would've been easy."

"Yep. But I wanted to come home."

Nog smiled at him.

"If Uncle asks, the lamp was totally busted. You want something to eat?"

"No, thanks. You get yourself something. Just don't spoil your dinner."

He'd heard his son called nearly every variation of 'troublemaker' before, it wasn't as if that was anything remarkable. And the reputation wasn't _entirely_ undeserved. But when was the last time he'd heard anyone defend him? Anyone who wasn't Quark or himself?

When he finished taking the lamp apart, he began putting it back together.

Rom had been wrong before. That was no secret. He'd judged the association between his son and Sisko's boy to be nothing more than a friendship of convenience- two bored children with nothing else to do and no one else to hang around with. And perhaps it had started that way. But there was nothing convenient about what he'd just heard Jake do. He'd very nearly gotten himself in some trouble of his own, confronting an authority figure on Nog's behalf. Probably the commander would hear about it anyway, and Jake would get a talking to. If the situation had been reversed, he certainly would've given _his_ boy a talking to.

He finished putting the lamp back together, then immediately started taking it apart again.

Nog was decent at sneaking- as any typical child was- but (usually) not good enough to get past his father.

Rom's fingers paused. He didn't have to look up or behind him to know that his son was trying to slip out of their quarters unnoticed.

"Where are you going?"

There was a silence as he hesitated to answer. He knew exactly what face his son was making before he turned around to see it. Quark made that face too, whenever he'd been put on the defensive. To a practiced eye, it was a dead giveaway.

"... For a walk on the promenade," he said, a few seconds too late to be convincing.

"A walk to where?"

"I don't know."

"You're going to go meet up with Jake, aren't you?"

It wasn't really a question, and Nog knew it. He stood there and sulked (looking even more like his uncle as he did), searching his mind for the right argument. Rom didn't give him time to find one.

"Don't be late for dinner," he said, turning back to his work.

Another brief silence. If wide-eyed confusion had a sound, this would be it.

"Yes, father."

"Stay out of trouble," he added before Nog ran out the door.

"I know."

"- I don't want to hear it from your uncle again."

"I _know!"_

He listened to his son's footsteps disappear down the hall, his hands still hovering over the pieces of the lamp. When he couldn't hear him anymore, his fingers unfroze. They set upon the lamp spread all over the table and reassembled it one more time.

 


End file.
